


You're on thin fucking ice

by Zwergenmaedchen



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aprons, Attempt at Humor, Bad Flirting, Bickering, Christmas Cookies, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Polyamory, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 11:59:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16832194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zwergenmaedchen/pseuds/Zwergenmaedchen
Summary: Thomas and Silver are horrible at communicating with each other and that's why they end up fighting when they could be eating cookies fresh from the oven instead!





	You're on thin fucking ice

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt-fill for "Thin fucking ice" in the wonderful @ceraunos Black Sails Winter Prompts!  
> My first time writing Silver and my first time writing them as a modern AU, so I hope it turned out alright!

Thomas was livid. If there ever was a time when he regretted giving up his name, his status, and the influence that came with it, this was it.

When he had still been Lord Thomas Hamilton, nobody would have dared declining the chance at hosting his wedding, foregoing the money and certain public attention that would have come with it. And now. Now the only halfway decent restaurant that they could afford turned out to be a homophobic shithole and the owner wasn't even shy about it.

But then again, if he he still were Lord Thomas Hamilton, there was no way that his father would allow him to marry James McGraw anyways. And God, did he want to marry him.

He closed the door behind him, maybe with a little more force than strictly necessary and took of his hat and scarf, hanging them on his usual hook besides the door. The other hooks were already occupied, so he knew he wasn't alone.

He followed the smell of cookies to the kitchen and found Silver in the most terrible apron he'd ever seen. The fake white fur at the edges of that red thing couldn't be very practical for washing and the lewd image of a half-naked girl on the front didn't really seem in the spirit of Christmas. It was only made worse by the words in the speech bubble beside her head. 

“Suck the cook?” he read out loud with a raised eyebrow.

“If you insist,” Silver answered cheerily and came over to kiss him hello.

“What's this. Thing?” Thomas asked and gestured at it.

“Do you like it? We had a Shitty Secret Santa at work and this is what I got.” Silver laughed and brushed his locks behind his ears.

“That does not mean you have to wear it, does it?” He knew he was being a bit petulant, but he couldn't help it. 

Silver turned around to offer him a plate of chocolate-chip cookies. 

“There. That'll cheer you up, they're your favourites, right? I mean, that's what James told me. He just got home himself, still in the shower.”

Thomas sunk down into a kitchen chair, nibbling on a cookie. They were his favourites, with dark chocolate and almonds. Sometimes it had it's advantages living with a cook. If Silver wasn't driving him up a wall, that was. It had been hard these last months since Silver had lost his job and been at home more or less all the time. Thomas had spent as much time as possible at the university where he taught philosophy, so they wouldn't accidentally kill each other just because of their over-exposure to the other.

“So, how was it at the restaurant? Can they make the date?” Silver asked into the oven, where Thomas could see gingerbread men over his shoulder.

“No.”

“Oh, will you try another date then?”

“No.”

“Okay. You're really not in a great mood tonight, are you?”

“No.”

“What's wrong? Is it the apron?” He winked at Thomas, leaning back against the counter. “Cause if it's that, I can totally take it off.” He waved around the end of the belt like a tassel, probably going for seductive, but looking like a child playing with their mother’s apron instead. 

“I'm really not in the mood, John.”

“Ooh, John, is it? You must be pissed. What did I do this time?”

“It's got nothing to do with you.”

“Are you sure? Cause you come home, criticizing my looks, all grumbly and refusing to talk to me, eating my cookies and not even thanking me for making them.”

“Can we just. Not do that now?”

“What? Because you don't feel like it? Look, Thomas, I'm really doing my best here. I'm practically your and James’ personal maid at the moment and it wouldn't kill you to say thank you every once in a while!”

“I'm sorry, if I come home from a long day at work and then I have to deal with the wedding preparations alone, that maybe I just want to not talk for a while.”

“I know. But can you imagine what it's like to be alone all day and have nobody to talk to and then you come home and all you do is complain, if you even talk at all? You're both gone all day, every day. I'm going insane all cooped up here!”

“Well, somebody has to work for our living, right?”

“What? Because I'm just a lazy arse who doesn't wanna contribute anything? That what you wanna say?”

Silver had turned away with the last sentence, his shoulders heaving with rage, his leg shaking. 

“Come on, you know that's not what I meant,” Thomas grumbled.

Silver turned around, his eyes blazing.

“Oh, isn't it? You're on thin fucking ice, Thomas. Tell me then, what you meant!”

Only Silver would manage to look as terrifying in this moment, apron and all.

Thomas stood up and almost reached out to touch him but a warning glare stopped his hand in the middle between their bodies.

“You better have something very good to say now. I'm fucking sick of your mood swings. I know this is not what you're used to. I know this,” - he gestured to himself - “is not what you want. But you made a decision. So get used to it. We're in this together, whether you like it or not. And don't you dare think about running away now.”

He had almost closed the distance between them with an accusing finger to Thomas’ chest and his angry face centimetres away from Thomas' own face.

“It really wasn't about you, Silver. I am so sorry. I am an idiot. I do appreciate everything you do for us, I wouldn't know how I would have survived the last weeks if it wasn't for your lunch packs.”

“Couldn't have you living off the cafeteria, could I? You were getting fat,” Silver grumbled, still scowling.

“I am going to pretend I didn't hear that,” Thomas laughed, the tension leaving him for the first time since leaving the restaurant. He leaned in for a short kiss, released when Silver didn't stop him. The he pulled him to the table and they both sat down.

“Now, will you tell me what's going on?”

“Yes, alright,” Thomas sighed. “It is about the restaurant.”

“Because they couldn't make the date? I thought you said you weren't fixed on it, anyways?”

“The problem was not the date. It was us.” 

Thomas hated how defeated he sounded. It was just that he had not expected this to happen and he should have. If anyone should have expected it, it should have been him. 

Silver understood immediately. 

“Oh fuck, those wankers!”

“Yeah fuck!” 

At that Thomas looked to the door to find James with an equally pissed off expression as Silver was wearing now.

“It is what it is,” Thomas said with a sad shrug of his shoulders.

James came over and hugged him from behind the chair. Thomas leaned into him, enjoying the freshly showered smell of him and pressing a kiss to the freckles on the arm closest to his mouth.

“I'm sorry you had to go through that,” Silver said and covered one of Thomas’ hands with his own. “And sorry for my little rant just now.”

“No no, please, don't apologize. It was not fair of me to shut you out. You are right. We are in this together and that is exactly what I want,” he said with a decisive look into Silver's eyes. “I want you here. I am not just putting up with you for his sake. I thought you knew, I am sorry.”

“How would I know?” Silver asked and he looked even smaller in that moment than normally. “You never let me in on any of the wedding stuff. You have a cook living with you and you didn't even think to ask me if I would do the catering for you.”

“We did not want to make you feel left out. That is actually the reason I did not ask. I don't want you to feel like a servant at our wedding party. You are a part of this marriage, not our cook.”

“But I love cooking for you. Really, I wanna do it, wanted to from the start. I just thought maybe you didn't think I was good enough for your wedding.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” James chimed in. “John, you are a fucking excellent cook and if you really want to do it, we'd love nothing more. Right, Thomas?”

“Right. We would be honoured. Will you think about it?”

Silver's smile brightened the room and he stood up to first kiss James and then Thomas. 

“I don't need to think about it. I know exactly what we're gonna serve!”


End file.
